Thinking is the Most Dangerous Thing
by jenben300
Summary: AU. College-aged Lexa and Clarke are home for Winter Break and get caught up in a robbery at a local grocery.
1. Chapter 1

**Feeling inspired while I'm home for the holidays. I do not own any of these characters and am simply using them for entertainment/education purposes. Enjoy :)**

Lexa

The jolt of the Greyhound bus running over the curb outside of the intake station is what brings me out of my daydream. Thirty other passengers and I, mostly fellow college students, groan as the front tire slams back onto the blacktop, throwing us down like a broken elevator.

"Sorry, folks," the driver mumbles while cutting the wheel to swing us parallel to the sidewalk. He shifts into park and pulls the lever to the doors, welcoming the usual rush of air that signals our allowance to exit.

I stand up and feel the prickles of my butt nerves reawakening. The sensation tingles down the back of my thighs all the way down to the balls of my feet. _Yeah, not stretching before that four-hour mess of a ride was definitely a mistake_, I think to myself. I'm cranky, having skipped breakfast to be on time and then encountering a barrage of annoyances during the hectic morning of "Mission Return-home-for-the-holidays-as-soon-as-possible-to-forget-about-the-shit-storm-of-the-last-16-weeks". This semester was nowhere near as good as I thought it would be going into it, but at least I could have a stress-free journey home, right? Wrong.

My morning started with switching buses twice because of maintenance issues, only to be stuck in bumper to bumper traffic once we finally got on the road. The expected 2-hour drive would have been just bearable on an empty stomach but double it with the added nuisance of a bus-full of rowdy teenagers and it felt close to torture. I'm already a Junior, inching closer to 21 with each passing day, so being surrounded by 18-year-old freshmen was not my idea of fun. I would have taken the route of most upperclassmen and driven myself home or bummed a ride with a friend, but I left my car at home over the summer to save on the cost of parking permits. As far as asking a friend goes…let's just say I'd rather walk home blindfolded than trust any of my acquaintances at school to take me.

I go to a private university, arguably the "Ivy League" of our state. Most of the people I see daily have generations of attendees on their back that can vouch for them and guide them on what's what. My background is pretty much the opposite and I'm faced with it all the time. I've made friends at school, but most of them are there to party and hook-up. They don't need to worry much about actually learning anything because "my dad knows…" and "my mom works at…". Their careers are already a given. My scholarship and wits are all I have to get me through and I'm trying my best not to fuck that up.

A group of fraternity brothers in their matching blazers and ties brushes past me in the line to get down the steps and into the bitter December air. I've missed my chance to slide in between them, so I wait for an older woman and her daughter to squeeze out of their seats across from me then join behind them. We look like penguins as we shuffle to the front of the cabin and, one by one, descend onto the landing in front of the station. I turn to my right making my way to the side of the bus to retrieve my duffle, my backpack already slung on my shoulders. As I'm bending down, wrestling to get the large red sack filled with my clothes out from under a cheetah-printed suitcase, I feel someone inching closer behind me. I turn my head just in time to see black leggings walking backward into me.

"Oh! Excuse me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"It's fine…" I say curtly, annoyed until I look up fully and met the eyes of the clumsy black leggings. Blue, but not striking, more like the shade of a sky darkening in preparation of a storm. I could never mistake them. "Clarke?"

She hesitates for a beat before smiling in recognition. "Lexa! Of course, I knew you'd be coming home sooner or later."

"Yeah, it's good to see you. How's everything?" I'm suddenly nervous and I don't know why.

"Everything's good, same old same old. You're over at Wiley aren't you?"

"Yep!"

"Do you like it?" She tilts her head and bites her lip while asking. Who am I kidding? I know exactly why I'm nervous and she probably knows it too, enticing me with her little signals.

"It's pretty good, I can't complain," I barely choke out as my throat tightens. I feel my face heating up as she continues to smile and nod. "Right now I'm just glad the semester's done with. You still at Forest Hills?"

Forest Hills is the community college in our city and the usual route for kids who did decent in high school but weren't really hyped or financially stable enough to go to a four-year. I planned on being in the same boat as Clarke and my friends who went to FHCC until my full-ride popped up in the mail unexpectedly in late February of senior year. I applied to Wiley University as a joke, a kind of "fuck you" to all silver spoon-fed moochers of our class who automatically knew they would get in. I barely expected a rejection letter, let alone financial aid covering the entirety of my undergrad studies in addition to my acceptance. It was a bittersweet reality knowing I would have to leave everything and everyone I grew up with behind in order to succeed. Sometimes I still wonder if I made the right choice.

"Yeah, it's not too bad. One more semester and I should have enough credits to get into dental school."

"That's awesome, wow, I'm really happy for you." I try my best to stay nonchalant as if I hadn't been stalking her Instagram and knew exactly what her plans were for school. Totally not.

A double-tap of the bus horn warns that the last of the baggage needs to be claimed. I continue my conversation with Clarke while tugging more vigorously on the straps of my duffel.

"So, what are you doing at the bus station if you don't mind me asking, you know since you're already home?"

"My younger sister is spending Christmas with me and my mom this year," she nodded. "So she took the bus from Tacoma and I was just waiting for her when I bumped into you."

"Oh, that's cool, that's great," I smile uncomfortably, feeling like I crossed a boundary. Clarke and I get along, but we definitely are not as close as we were in high school. Even then, we hung out in different groups and our interests varied. I use the weight of my embarrassment to help me focus on wiggling, rather than pulling, my duffle bag until it slips out and onto the street.

"Oh, let me help," Clarke breaks the silence by reaching over and grabbing the back strap of the bag, helping me to carry onto the sidewalk, through the crowd of bus passengers, and rest it under the awning of the pickup/drop off area.

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"No problem. Hey look, it was so good to see you, really. We should exchange numbers before I go back up front."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," I say sliding my phone out of my front pocket. She gently takes it from me after I unlock it, swiping through to the 'add new contact' section and typing the 10 digits before handing it back over. My fingertips graze over hers as I reach for it and I swear I can see her shiver. Maybe it's just the cold.

"Don't be a stranger, for real," she says while pulling me into a one-armed hug, the warmth of her cheek against mine for a split second. She smells like peaches. Not the artificial, machine-made kind, but real summer peaches, the kind that is so rare to get here in the northwest. Soft and sweet.

"Yeah, I'll see you around," I fib, knowing that my winter plans consist of staying indoors as much as possible. I watch her turn and walk back to the front of the terminal, wondering if there was something better I could have said. Probably not.

Anya was late as usual. I'm used to it but that doesn't make it any less irritating. The pick-up/drop off area had gone through at least three rounds of rushes before I eyed her blue sedan pulling into the lot. I stood and checked the time. 5:06 pm. She should have been here over an hour ago, especially since I had been texting her updates since the start of my trip home.

The car rounded the curb and came to a smooth stop. I could feel the bass in my chest as I approached the driver's side window. As it slowly rolled down, the smell of lavender flooded my nose and lyrics from JMSN's album Priscilla flooded my ears. The tell-tell elements of Anya post-smoke session.

"Get in," she grumbled over the loud music, eyes hidden behind dark shades. She was baked. I don't mind and have even had a few blunts myself here and there, but when it starts to affect her ability to pick me up on time I get pissed.

"Unlock the trunk, dumbass." I wasn't in the mood for games. I missed my room and my stomach was growling louder by the second, ready for food and a long nap. The click-click of the hatch signaled that she was still able to at least comprehend simple requests. I dumped my duffle and bookbag in the back and hopped in the passenger seat.

"I figured you'd be hungry, so I got us a sandwich. You're welcome."

The other half of a submarine sandwich rested in the middle console and for once I was glad to be around during one of her munchies episodes.

"Well, thanks, but it would have been really helpful about an hour ago when you were supposed to be here".

"If you don't eat, I will. Shit, I'm starving", she replied pulling onto the highway and switching lanes for the next closest exit.

"I didn't say I wouldn't eat it, I'm just trying to let you know that you were late _as fuck_, again. Smoking with Luna wouldn't have seemed so important if I was getting kidnapped out here, would it?"

"Shut up, no would want to kidnap you any way you talk too damn much."

If it sounds like we're bickering like adolescent sisters, it's because we are. Not adolescent, but sisters. Anya has been my legal guardian from the time I was 14 when our parents died in a plane crash. Being only 20 herself when they passed, becoming responsible for a teenager who was also mourning a monumental loss was not easy. Things have gotten better over the last 6 ½ years, but as you can see, they aren't even close to being perfect.

Silence except for the whistle of the roadway filled the car as the album ended and our little feud died down. I gobbled down the sandwich and leftover chips from the bag in the console and laid back in my seat. I could tell we were nearing home as we passed Forest Hills.

"Guess who I ran into at the bus station?" I broke the silence.

"Jesus Christ Superstar?"

"No, idiot. Clarke Griffin."

"Oh, her! Her mom is like a dentist or something right? Whatever happened with you guys?"

"Dental assistant. Clarke is the one trying to become an actual practitioner. What do you mean?"

"I mean like you used to talk about her all the time, and she would come over the house sometimes after school. I know you both are in college now, but it's like she almost didn't even exist. Don't downplay her mom's position either."

"I didn't! There's just a difference between a dental assistant and a D.D.S. I don't know. I guess we just grew apart. We weren't super close to begin with anyway."

"Maybe, but…I guess I just thought you really liked her," she glanced at me with a seriousness I could sense even behind her sunglasses. I hated it. It wasn't that I was scared to speak to Anya about my feelings for Clarke or my sexuality or whatever. I just don't think its any of her business. I know she would support me either way, it's just not necessary to get her involved. If there's one thing that Anya is good at, its overstepping boundaries.

I didn't answer her, and she took it as a sign to abandon the conversation, as I wanted. I could tell we were nearing our neighborhood just by feeling the shift of the tires on gravel. Our driveway was lined with usual battery-operated candy canes that sparkle and flash little white lights of Christmas. I'm not usually a sucker for the holidays, but this year I really needed the Christmas spirit. The sun had set completely by now, and the lights felt like the biggest "welcome home" I had received all day.

Jumping out of the car, I dug my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the front door. Muscle memory caused me to toss them into the key bowl that usually rests on the small cabinet by the steps, but it wasn't there. Instead, they fell to the hard-wood floors, startling my St. Bernard, Rex, awake. He was getting old and going from sitting to standing was not as easy as before, but he rushed as fast as he could to greet me, slobber and all.

"Hey, Boy," I baby-talked while rubbing his large face. "Why'd you move the key table, Anya?"

"Eh, needed a change."

Unable to shake the nagging feeling that said "change" was somehow influenced by Luna and her pot-selling intrusion, I rolled my eyes before heading upstairs to shower and rest after the blur of the day.

"Don't forget we're getting up early on Saturday to go see Mom and Dad!"

"I never do," I shouted back halfway up the stairs. Every year, Anya and I make time before Christmas to visit our parents' graves and set flowers. I'll admit we haven't always been good at visiting them, mostly because it's just too painful, but Christmas is never a question. It's emotionally draining, but worth every second. I know I want to take tomorrow as a day to mentally prepare.

In the shower I let the water run burning hot then ice-cold before perfect warmth runs over my body. I lather up with the soap Anya has since I've yet to stop by the store to get my own toiletries. It smells like a blend of fruit and I catch the slightest undertone of…peaches. My mind races back to earlier today. I will myself not to picture dark-sky blue and golden blond. The feeling of her cheek brushing with mine and our hands touching through the passing of my cellphone. _Her fingernails were so clean. She smelled so good. _The warmth of the shower doesn't help the fire growing in my abdomen. I close my eyes and let my hands wander lower and lower. _Oh my god. I can't be doing this right now. _But I am. I am getting off to the thought Clarke and it feels amazing. I'm thinking about us. Not us throughout today, but us from before. The us that walked from class to class together in the halls during senior year. The us that revealed deep secrets and fears about getting older. The us that snuck intimate touches behind closed doors. I've forced myself to bury these thoughts inside over the last three years and now in the span of a few hours they've all come flooding back. I'm getting closer. I can feel-

BANG BANG BANG "Hurry up! You know the water heater's iffy and I need a shower, too!"

_Fuck. _

Talk about blue balls.

I crawl into bed clean and dry, but unsatisfied. I guess that's just a part of being home that I need to get used to. At school, I've had my share of bedmates here and there, but nothing serious. At least I could do what I wanted uninterrupted. Here it just feels too awkward to do anything. I feel a headache coming on and pop two ibuprofen. _I need to relax. There's enough stress in my life as is and this is my only break for a while. _The lights go off around 10 o'clock and I crawl into bed, wishing for a dreamless, unbothered slumber. All night I have visions of Clarke, naked and caressing my hand.

**Well, there we go. I spent the majority of last night cranking this out on a whim so I'm still planning on how the other chapters will go. They probably will not be as long since this was the introduction to this version of Lexa/Clarke and I wanted to warm you up to the concept. This is only my second fic, so please let me know what you think and check out my old FGT one-shot on my profile!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm Baaaaack. Man, I've been going through it lately, but I really wanted to get this chapter out to move the story along. Happy Super Bowl Sunday to all my American Football fans (go Chiefs!). I do not own any of these characters and am simply using them for entertainment/education purposes. Enjoy :)**

Lexa

_Ding! _

The toaster oven timer went off as the smell of over-baked chocolate chip cookies wafted into the living room.

"Shit," I hopped up from the couch and slid into the kitchen with Rex hot on my heels. He was following close behind with hopes of having his canine palate gifted with my latest batch of burnt food.

"You might have gotten the chicken nuggets from earlier, but no chocolate for you," I quirked in my usual dog-talk-baby voice. I tossed the crispy black circles into the garbage, Rex frowning and sniffing out the whole process. I don't know why today seemed to be my worst in terms of cooking, but I knew I wasn't in the mood to try again. Instead, I settled for rummaging through the fridge for something quick and not in need of heating. _A piece of fruit should be fine for now. _I was disappointed to see that my options were limited to three lemons, a half stick of butter, a container of tomato sauce, and two boiled eggs in a bag that looked well past a safe date. The freezer was no better. _All this time to prepare for me coming home and you couldn't even bother to go shopping. Great. _

I hate to find things to complain about, but how can I not when Anya makes it so hard not to? Speak of the devil, I'm hearing keys in the door and glance at the clock above the oven. Already 4'o clock, meaning I've pretty much wasted my Friday away in front of the TV. I knew I should have stepped away from all the cheesy holiday movies hours ago, but I couldn't resist. The couch cushions seemed to swallow me whole while I flipped through channel after channel.

"Hey, you here?" Anya called out to the house as she crossed the front doorway, arms full of shopping bags. "Don't look in the bags, I picked up a couple of gifts today."

"Would any of those gifts happen to be some groceries?"

"What? No, there's plenty in the fridge and the pantry," Anya replied kicking off her heels before setting the bags on the dining room table and removing her jacket.

"You should check for yourself because there's really not," I replied, thinking of how odd she looked not wearing one of her usual bohemian get-ups. Instead of loose-fitting dungarees or a distressed and dyed t-shirt, her outfit consisted of corduroy slacks, a lacey white button-up, and a matching blazer.

"Don't get smart with me. I know for a fact that I went shopping not too long—" Anya swallowed her words as she opened the door to a bare fridge. "Well…you're not useless you could have ordered a pizza or something."

She closed the fridge and went about hanging up her slightly damp jacket. A light sprinkling of snow flurries mixed with rain had started just before she arrived home.

"Um, hello? Does broke college kid mean nothing to you?"

"Does working full time mean nothing to _you?_

Anya's business attire wasn't for naught. She worked as a receptionist at this exclusive couples' resort in the next town over, filing reservations, taking customer complaints, the usual. She hates it, but she and I both know that there's no way we could afford to stay in our parents' house if we only relied on her unpredictable weekend profits from trimming buds at Luna's farm. Usually when she pulls out the 'I work 40 hours' card I back down, but the irritation from being interrupted mid-shower fantasy last night was still lingering and I wanted a fight.

"Maybe it would if you didn't spend half of that time cutting marijuana up at Luna's stupid farm," I snarked, using the term 'farm' lightly. It was more like a few garden sheds in the woods behind Luna's grandparents' house on the west end of town.

"We don't _cut_ we _trim,_ and you should be thankful for Luna and her grandparents they've helped put some extra money in both of our pockets more than once. Plus, every other weekend isn't even close to half the time."

"It's enough time to get high and forget your sister at the bus station though, isn't it?"

"Would you get over that already? It's not my fault you're too scared to drive yourself back and forth from college."

_Ouch. _I might have been a bit untruthful before as to why I don't drive. Yeah, parking permits are expensive as hell, but the thought of being behind the wheel of a car is even worse.

"Whatever. I'm just saying Mom and Dad never—"

"YEAH, I GET IT!"

Rex tucked his head down behind the kitchen table, alarmed as much as me to hear Anya raise her voice. I know I've pushed too far.

"I know…I know I haven't been the best at keeping track of stuff, especially since you left for school," she sighed, running two hands over her light brown hair. "But I'm trying. Can you at least acknowledge that?"

Before I could answer there was a series of lighthearted knocks on the front door.

Timidly, I scooted around Anya and toward the knocks. The glass pane of the door showed that whoever waited on the other side held something sparkling red and green. I turned the knob and swung the door inward, revealing a shivering Clarke with a small plate holding bundles of green and red cling wrap. The precipitation had picked up a bit, replacing the previous thin sheets of rain and flurries with thick snowflakes.

"Hi! I hope this isn't a bad time? I was baking with my sister and she made way too many extra cookies, so figured I'd try and see if you wanted any".

I'll admit that Clarke was the last person I expected to see today, especially after the surprise interaction yesterday. I gave her a quick once over, making note of the way her cheeks flushed with every vapory breath she took. I thought to myself about the state of her Christmas sweater, sprinkled with flour and slowly melting snowflakes.

"Hey, Clarke! Come on in, I know Lexa's trying to freeze you to death", Anya interrupted. I guess I'd been staring longer than I thought.

"Sorry," I mumbled backing up to make room for Clarke to step inside.

"Thanks," She laughed awkwardly. "I decided to walk over so I could catch the sunset on the way back, but I guess I should have checked the weather before I left".

Clarke lived two neighborhoods over from us, separated by a small shopping center. It was only about a two-minute drive, but the walk could take up to 15 minutes even when using the handy shortcut through the middle school football field. In nice weather it was pushing it, so to imagine her trekking through temps in the low 30's…

"Why not just take your car?" I asked a bit too forwardly. "I mean they're just cookies". _Shut up shut up shut up. _

"I can drive anytime," Clarke explained in her naturally sweet tone. "Sometimes you just need a moment to savor things".

"Right," I responded way too dismissively. _God, Lexa just stop talking. _

"Lexa quit being an ass and take the girl's cookies," Anya ordered, her unknown innuendo causing both Clarke and I to blush.

I took the ceramic snowman plate from Clarke, chilled from the wintry mix outside, and led them into the kitchen.

"There are caramel thumbprints in the red and Oreo truffles in the green," Clarke said.

"Man, she's really spoiling us today, huh?" Anya tried to get my attention.

I silently nodded, my mind wandering elsewhere. An awkward silence filled the kitchen only broken by the background noise of an ongoing holiday special from the living room TV.

Anya cleared her throat. "Lexa, why don't you give Clarke a ride home, it's pretty cold out….and in here". She mumbled the last portion under her breath.

"Anya, I haven't touched that car in months and it's snowing. What if the storm starts to pick up?"

"Well then I guess you should get a move on and drive carefully; you need the practice. Clarke, go ahead and wait in the garage. Lexa will be right out".

Clarke glanced between the two of us before nodding and sliding through the side door next to the pantry and into the garage.

"Dude? I know we just had a fight, but you don't have to take that shit out on her," Anya scolded me as soon Clarke's backside cleared the doorway.

"It's not that I just…" I couldn't find the words to describe what I was feeling. Of course, I appreciated Clarke's effort in bringing us treats, especially with the fridge empty. Of course, I felt good seeing Clarke, especially after yesterday. I just couldn't find a way to bring myself to express it.

"I'm just going to take her home and I'll be right back," I dismissed Anya's curiosity while searching for my keys. I felt her hand on my arm.

"Look, whatever it is…just leave it in the past. I know you two didn't leave on the best of terms before you went to school-

"Don't." The last thing I wanted to discuss was something as irrelevant as what happened almost 4 years ago. I pulled away and made a beeline for the door.

"You think it doesn't matter, but you're not acting like it". Her words froze my hand around the doorknob. "I know you don't want to talk to me about it and I know you're having trouble dealing with your feelings towards her. Just don't push away someone who's genuinely trying to connect with you. Not again".

I didn't hesitate to snipe back. "If you knew half of what I was feeling right now, you would take back everything you said. But you don't so just mind your fucking business _for once_".

I didn't provide her anytime to respond as I opened and slammed the door behind me. A startled Clarke turned from her position by the hood of my beat-up sedan. "Everything good?"

I didn't answer, I just unlocked the passenger door for her and scooted behind the steering wheel. She joined me and buckled up slowly, rubbing her hands against her jeans to warm them after the metal of the seatbelt clicked into place. I started the ignition and hit the center console button twice allowing a soft breeze of frigid air to pump from the vents of my idle car.

"Sorry. It's gonna take a minute to warm up," I explained. Clarke nodded in understanding as I backed out of the garage, craning my neck every which way to make sure I didn't hit our drive-way decorations on the way out. Suddenly I felt Clarke's hand on top of my mine on the steering wheel.

"Don't turn until you back all the way out. Back up, keep going," She instructed while holding the wheel in place. My heart raced and it took every ounce of will power I had not to pull my hands away from her.

"Ok, now turn," she said, guiding the wheel with both of our palms. The car gently bumped onto the main street and I shifted into drive, pulling us forward in the direction of the next street over. The snowflakes had slowed but still gathered enough to force me to turn the windshield wipers on.

"You never want to turn too early when backing up. That's a good way to ram into something or run yourself off the road."

"I took driver's ed, too you know," I stated matter-of-factly. We were approaching the intersection that led to the neighborhood before Clarke's. She rolled her eyes and laughed softly.

"What?"

"Nothing it's just…you're too easy to read, Lex." I could have fainted at her usage of my old term of endearment from her. A nickname of a nickname. Something only Clarke could ever do and make smooth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I gasped, not offended just amused.

"Well right now, for instance, you're embarrassed that you needed help with something so you're acting like driving isn't something you _naturally_ suck at. And then earlier you were upset about me showing up uninvited and that's why you were so standoffish towards me. You're an open book. At least to me."

The traffic light flashed green and I pulled through the intersection before switching lanes in preparation for the next left side turn.

"Not true," I replied defensively, then re-thought my approach. "Ok. Yes. You got the car driving thing right—

Clarke let out a bemused "I knew it!"

"But the rest of that shit…no. I'm not an open book and I didn't mind you showing up today the same way I didn't mind yesterday."

"Nah," Clarke rebutted. "You definitely minded. Yesterday was different, today makes a pattern, and I know based off how we left things the last time I _really_ saw you, you don't want it to be that way."

I stayed silent having a miniature flashback to the last time we were together before I left for school. I refused to stay there and shook the memory from my head as I turned into the small back road that would take me around to the entrance of Clarke's street.

"What happened before I left isn't even that big of a deal. We were basically kids. There has been so much time between then and now I don't even know why you think that has anything to do with how I'm feeling. Have you forgotten that my parents' anniversary is coming up? Have thought that maybe I'm stressed about the holidays and all these gifts and shopping and responsibility and that you bringing more holiday things into my headspace was just overwhelming? Not everything in my life is about you and me—

"Lexa watch it!"

I slammed on the brakes and cut right, just barely missing the group of middle schoolers crossing the street. The kids scattered like ants back onto the sidewalk and the inertia of the car brought us back down, breathing heavy and hard.

"First of all," Clarke broke the silence, "Fuck. Second, please pull into my driveway before you kill someone."

I crept forward at a pace of less than 5 mph and covered the last 500 feet of pavement leading me to Clarke's front door. We parked and I cut the ignition half a turn, still allowing some semi-warm heating to spill into the cabin.

"Third, don't be a fucking idiot," Clarke picked up again. "Of course, I know all that stuff matters to you, _especially _your parents' anniversary and I'm not saying that every waking moment of your life is based on what happened between us in high school. I'm just saying….I'm saying that I know you and I know that me popping up yesterday was probably really weird for you—

"Yeah, weird is an understatement, Clarke. Weird is 'Hey, I thought I left my Chapstick on my bedside table and now I can't find it', not 'The girl I literally almost gave up everything for is suddenly back in my life and bringing me cookies like nothing ever happened'".

"You literally _just_ said that none of that mattered," Clarke groaned.

"Well, it does! It does fucking matter!" I was raising my voice now. "Why now Clarke? I've been home dozens of times before why pick now to see me?"

"Because I was tired of wondering! I'm sick of having to think about you just based on what some stupid Instagram post says or what someone else from school says they think you might be doing. I was tired of not feeling like I had place in your life, regardless of what happened before you left, so I took the time to find out when you were coming and made sure I was going to be there too, even if it meant being at that stupid bus station hours after I had already picked up my sister. Lord knows you weren't going to be the one the cross that bridge, so I made it my responsibility."

"And oh, what a burden that must have been to bear," I spat sarcastically. An awkward silence built in the minutes after my outburst.

"Look," Clarke finally sighed. "I know you're in the mood for picking fights today, I heard you and Anya at your house, but that doesn't mean that you just get to dismiss every sign I am trying my damn best to throw at you. We can be adults about this and have a real discussion about our situation or you can treat it like 3 years ago, delete my number, and act like you don't know me. What do you want?"

"…I want you to hurry up and go in the house before I have to drive home in the dark".

"Fuck you, Alexandra."

* * *

The moon was already at its high point when I pulled back into my driveway knocking down several decorative candy canes in the process. After Clarke stormed out of my car and into her house, I clumsily pulled off in the direction of nowhere. I ended up not far off from our old high school, across the street at a run-down pizza joint. It stuck out like a sore thumb among all the well-kept chain restaurants adjacent to it, not to mention it was the only would that sold half-decent food. Tofu and kale reigned supreme at the other over-priced eateries. With only a few bucks in my account, a soggy Stromboli was the best option.

I sat in the booth nearest to the front half glancing at the infomercial on the mounted box tv, half staring out the window and across the street at the high school. Behind the track field and through a small brush of trees, I could just barely make out the twinkling of porch lights. The houses occupied by the most well-off of our town; corporate bankers, CEOs, government officials, highly-ranked military families, you name it. This was the place Clarke used to live before her parents' divorce. The same place that held such beautiful and painful memories for us both. I couldn't manage to swallow the rest of my food with those thoughts racking my brain, so I left the best tip I could and made my way out.

Now, finally back home and able to kick off my shoes, I stepped into the kitchen and switched on the stove light. The rest of the house was dim, but the stove bulb shone just enough to illuminate a note on the fridge.

_Went to Luna's for the night. Be back in the morning to leave for mom and dad. -A _

_p.s. Fridge still empty but enjoy Clarke cookies? Sorry! _

In all the chaos of today, I had forgotten about going to the cemetery tomorrow. _Now I'm a shitty sister, shitty daughter, shitty…ex-girlfriend acquaintance person?_ I couldn't be less bothered. On the bright side, I had managed to feed myself already so the grocery store could wait until tomorrow. Right now my main priority was to get to bed. I felt a nudge at my leg. Rex had sauntered over, tail between his legs.

"What is it buddy?" I questioned, bending down to make doggy eye contact. He groaned deeply, tilting his head to the empty food dish next to the fridge.

_Make that shitty dog owner as well._

My brakes shrieked as I pulled into the car park in front of Shop'N' Go. The green neon glow of my dashboard read 10:23 pm. I was already beyond exhausted having still not recovered from my hell of a trip on Thursday and now I had another task to complete. My head felt too big for my body and my eyes drooped lower with every passing second. I sucked in the air around me and pushed it out hard. _Get the dog food and get out. _

Slamming the driver side door tight, I clicked my key ring twice locking the car. A sweet jingle announced my arrival to the store's late-night workers. A few other straggling shoppers occupied the quaint store, mostly looking for last-minute holiday ingredients. I hooked a quick right past the cashier lanes nodding at the store manager, Indra, on my way.

"Good to see you," She greeted me quietly. Indra's daughter Gaia had played on my soccer team back in middle school. We were never super close, but I remember Gaia having a crush on me even after we grew apart in high school. Indra was always kind. Stern, but modest. She'd been the manager at this Shop 'N' Go since before my parents died.

I continued through the canned food aisle and looped around to the side that read Pet Care in bold black letters. I scanned the shelves until my eyes landed on the usual yellow and blue bulk bag I got for Rex. My knees groaned as I strained to lift it from the bottom shelf.

"Need some help?"

I turned to the familiar helpful tone and came face to chin with Monty Green. He had grown even taller since our days in school, and I forced my head upward to meet his welcoming eyes and shaggy hairline.

"Monty! Dude its been forever," I piped up, genuinely happy to see him. In addition to his height, I could see long black hair sticking out from his loosely tied ponytail, something new. "You look good, how have you been?"

"Same old stuff, still working here trying to keep dinner on the table."

Monty had more to consider these days than most of our peers. He and his girlfriend Harper had gotten pregnant mere months before graduation. I remembered seeing pictures of their son Jordan online around Christmas last year.

"That's good nothing wrong with that. Family doing well?"

"Yeah, yeah, Jordan will be turning four pretty soon and Harper just started a new job over at the NICU in St. Johns."

I suddenly got a memory of Harper, talking about her journey in midwifery when we ran into each other a few months ago, and felt the happiest I had in a long time. I envied how no matter the difficulties, both Monty and Harper seemed to keep cool heads. Maybe kids will do that to you.

"That's great, really. I'm actually in a bit of a rush, do you think you could get this to the check out for me? I'm going to grab a cart and pick up a few other things."

"No problem!" That was Monty. Always willing to help. Somethings never change.

As Monty made his way toward the front, ponytail flopping about, I u-turned toward the back of the store in search of a spare cart. _I'm already here might as well get the rest of it. _

Eyeing one near a neatly stacked drink display, I jogged to claim it before someone else. I grabbed ahold of the cart rail but felt it tug in the opposite direction as soon as I pulled to leave.

"Jesus…" The cart-grabber mumbled under their breath. I turned to face none other than Clarke, bundled up in a winter coat and hat, a bottle of wine in one hand, the other wrapped around the front end of the cart.

_Ok, Big Dude I get it. You hate me and you're teaching me a lesson. Very funny. _But even begging God for mercy didn't aid in stopping the embarrassment that was seeping into my cheeks.

"Excuse me," Clarke attempted to say in the most unbothered tone manageable, but I heard her voice shake.

"Pretty sure I got here first, Clarke."

"I'm not doing this with you."

"Fine, then don't," I said as I pulled the cart closer to me.

Clarke set her wine bottle in the basket of the cart, challenging me with watery blue eyes. In fact, her eyes looked a bit red as well…had she been crying?

She must have sensed my guilt at the same time I felt it because she wasted no time bumping me with her hip and sliding behind the handle of the cart, effectively claiming it from me. Without another word, she pushed away in the direction of the frozen food aisle. I followed a few paces behind.

"Maybe we could share it?" I questioned while she browsed pints of colorfully named ice cream.

"What are you five? Also, you don't need to follow me everywhere. Last time I checked you wanted me as far away from you as possible," She growled.

"I'm not following you," I pointed out defensively. It was at least partially true. I wanted some frozen stuff as well, but I really wanted that cart…and maybe some time to apologize for earlier.

"If you want a cart so bad just go up front and get one."

"You have way less stuff than I'm getting. I need the cart more and I saw it first."

"Lexa, I swear to God—

Our bickering was washed over by the sound of much more intense interaction at the front of the store. A man's muffled voice and the sound of woman adamantly protesting his remarks. Indra?

Bap!Bap!Bap!

"EVERYBODY GET THE FUCK DOWN! NOW!"

**Dun Dun Duuuuun! (I call this chapter 'Lexa is petty is af). Leave a Review! Please let me know what you enjoyed about this chapter or maybe what you'd like to see done differently. Thanks for Reading!**


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